Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“How does he even know about this place?”
“I imagine he has someone on his staff whose job it is to find interesting things for him to do no matter where he is visiting. Figure this was a better trip than having to drag you around to Horrorland or some shit like that.”
“Yeah, horror really isn’t my style,” I admitted. “I’m not a huge fan of violence in general.”
“We have that in common,” Levee admitted. There was a strange edge to his tone, though, that I couldn’t quite place.
But Zayn was calling us over to check out some more pieces of art, so there was no more time to talk in private.
I was actually having a really good time. It felt nice to be out of the apartment with other adults doing just random fun things.
But after the museum, then a stop at a very fancy restaurant where none of us should have been permitted to enter dressed as we were, but Zayn seemed to have some sort of pull, it was about time for the bus to circle back to the lot where they’d picked me up, so I could get back to my place in time for my dinner date with Lily and Curtis.
“So, are you still going to be bringing bagels in the morning?” I asked as Levee walked me to my car.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“If you’ll tell me what kind of bagels you like.”
“Cinnamon raisin.”
“Then it’s a date,” he said, backing me up against the passenger rear door, leaning in, and sealing his lips over mine.
It was long and deep but far too quick, leaving my body feeling tingly and unsatisfied.
“See you in the morning?” he asked, getting a nod out of me. “Cinnamon raisin.”
“Cinnamon raisin,” I agreed as he pulled open my door, then waited for me to slide inside.
I was floating on cloud nine the rest of the night. All through dinner with Lily and Curtis that featured a snuggle with the baby as I fed her.
It wasn’t until I was on my way back down to my floor, when the elevator stopped the floor above mine to let another tenant out, and I looked down to see a door ever so slightly ajar that I felt my stomach drop again.
Because that door?
It was to the apartment right above mine.
Before I even knew what I was doing, I was stepping out of the elevator.
And making my way to the door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jade
My heartbeat was punching against my ribcage as I crept down the hall.
I suddenly regretted the second dinner I’d eaten at my friends’ place as it moved back up my throat, my mind conjuring up endless images of horrible things I might see.
Like my neighbor dead on the floor of his living room, never having a chance to even try to run away.
I stopped just outside of the door, pausing to take a deep breath as I listened for a moment.
Hearing nothing, I used my elbow to push open the apartment door.
It was dark inside, save for the glow of his TV screensaver, casting the space in pink and purple glow.
Using the back of my hand, I flicked on the overhead light.
My gaze went first to the desk setup near the windows. Three separate monitors, two gaming systems, a desk covered in energy drinks, chip and candy wrappers, and a collection of what looked like fidget toys.
The chair was turned over on the floor and a pair of white gaming headphones were on the ground next to it.
None of those things were what had a gasp catching in my throat, though.
No.
That would be because of the big dried puddle of blood in the center of the floor.
There was a strange whining noise in the apartment and it took me an embarrassingly long moment to realize it was coming from me.
The dinner that had been making its way up my throat threatened to find its way out, and I had to focus on taking a few slow, deep breaths to fight it back down.
I sidestepped the puddle of blood, pressing my back against the cabinets straight out of the seventies, but these ones were a faded yellow color compared to my sage green ones.
I followed the counters to the edge of the kitchen, then snaked my way down the hall. I checked out the bathroom, finding nothing, then made my way toward the only bedroom.
It was similar to mine. The layout of the closet and the windows making it so the bed had to be on the same wall with the feet facing the door.
Unlike my room, though, the walls were the same bland white they’d been when I’d moved in. And his bed was covered in nothing but a flat sheet with one pillow and one throw blanket. No nightstands or decor and just a small dresser across from the bed with a large TV sitting on top of it.